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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098417">i love you (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorons/pseuds/kaermorons'>kaermorons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Bingo Card~ [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Half a handjob, M/M, Making Out, Porn with Feelings, Trapped In A Closet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:15:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorons/pseuds/kaermorons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eskel and Lambert wind up in the wrong place at the right time, and they make the most of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Bingo Card~ [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i love you (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my bingo square: ‘Trapped in a Small Space’</p><p>Title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift</p><p>Don’t write Witchers in love to that song because you’ll cry</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lambert was grinning the whole time he ran around the corner, pockets full of gold and heart full of mischief. He wheeled as the rug beneath him began to slip, but recovered quickly, rolling to regain his balance. The manor he was maneuvering around was rather large and labyrinthine, all marble floors and velvet drapes and scented candles that overwhelmed his senses. He vaguely heard Vesmir’s voice in the back of his head, telling him he was a fool for picking a fight, provoking a human of means, in an unfamiliar and confusing territory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was so much fun, who could blame him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes alighted on a little, out of the way door in the corner off of another hallway: a closet. The pounding feet behind him, angry guards of the baron, to be sure, were too close for comfort, and that is what made him dive through the door, closing it as quietly as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the moment he was shut in the dark and quiet broom cupboard, he noticed the presence behind him. He whirled, pulling two daggers and aiming them right for the ribs of the closet’s previous inhabitant. The other was rather fast, though, a serrated, wicked-edged knife going to his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both froze, tensing as the guards dashed past the door. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins in excess, and stunned his senses past the point where he could use his enhanced eyesight to look at the other person here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, he’d know the edge of that blade against his throat blinded and a thousand years from now. And he knew the other would know the tips of his daggers just as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eskel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lambert?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both breathed in relief, stunned by the utter flipturn the moment had taken. The guards trounced away, their disappointed grumbles following their footsteps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert schooled his face into one of pleased neutrality; he never saw his fellow Wolves out on the path, but the baron’s gryphon problem was too promising to keep to his own territory. He hadn’t seen Eskel for several months, and just being in the other Witcher’s presence was enough to send his emotions and senses into freefall, seconds after their meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They remained silent as they listened outside, the both of them steadfastly ignoring the burning heat of the other’s body and the proximity of it against their own, their pounding hearts at the excitement. Their breathing was harsh, for a Witcher, but practically silent to anyone outside the door. “Why are you here?” Lambert whispered, his own breath bouncing back off of Eskel’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel let out a frustrated huff of air, shifting. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> here for a contract. There seemed to be a lot of gryphons roosting in the belfry. And what do you know, I get here and they say it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>handled.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lambert tried to keep his grin to himself, but waiting for the punchline was never his strong suit. Hence, the angry contingency of guards at his heels just a moment ago. “Another Witcher seemed to get here first and grabbed the money. Stiffed out of a lucrative contract I traveled fifty miles for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poor Scorpion,” Lambert said, not sorry in the least. “Well I’ll tell you what, we make it out of this alive and not thrown in a dungeon, I just came into quite a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lucrative</span>
  </em>
  <span> amount of money from a well-won contract, that I’ll treat you and your horse to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel would have shoved him, his body language radiating frustration and playful rage, but the nasally, whiny voice of the baron drifted closer, so they both froze again, hands on one another’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t understand, it’s a locked building, where could they have escaped to?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My lord, all of the guards at your disposal are looking for the Witcher who took your money.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“A well-won contract, huh?” Eskel said, breathing against Lambert’s face. They were so close Lambert could feel the shape of his smile, twisted and charming as his own heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think you’re so special, you’re not the only Witcher he stiffed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s still some bullshit, Lam, we got a code, did you know I was coming?” Eskel’s hands came to rest on Lambert’s waist, gripping him through his armor. Lambert shivered. He hasn’t liked laying with whores for almost fifteen years, ever since Eskel started showing him the warmer side of winter. And damn, this fucking manor was chilled as the Blue Mountains, but he started to feel that bone-deep warmth, that stirring heat in his loins that used to make him roll his eyes when he thought about it too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he welcomes it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I prefer eyes on you when I know you’re coming. How do you feel about right now?” Lambert shot Eskel his best smirk, just a hint of his little snaggletooth, and if it weren’t so dark, Eskel would have most likely been charmed like he always was, when his smile was half-lit by firelight and candles and the waning winter sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m gonna keep being angry for awhile, just to hear you scrape the barrel of your pickup lines.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s an endless hole, would you like to test it?” Lambert purred. Eskel huffed another breath through his nose, and pressed his face into the crook of Lambert’s neck. It was a sweet gesture that caught him off guard for all of three seconds, before Eskel’s wickedly-sharp teeth bit down, tugging like he wanted to rip Lambert’s throat out. His cock twitched in his trousers, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods, wasn’t this the worst day to go without braies?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert didn’t want to die in more layers than he felt comfortable in. Fuck, there was something to that chafing strain of his hard prick against his laces, though. His stuttered breath only dug Eskel’s teeth in harder. It’d leave a bruise, a deep and royal purple one, even on a Witcher. They were, admittedly, rougher on each other than human lovers ever would be, but they were Witchers; they could afford to be rough on those they were sweet for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“F-fuck, Esk’l.” Lambert squirmed, freezing when a broom threatened to tip over onto the floor from where he’d dislodged it. “You’re always so fucking hot when you’re mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel pulled back, and Lambert saw stars when his head suddenly hit the back wall, hard. Eskel’s lips were hot and slightly chapped, scraping against his stubble ruthlessly as he was kissed and kissed deeply. Lambert’s hands went up to Eskel’s waist, his back, anything he could get to freely and without restraint. Eskel wasn’t interested in full restraint (this time) however, though he pinned Lambert against the cool stones, tongue licking into his mouth. The little ridge of his mouth, one of the edges of his scars, dragged against his cheek. Fuck, neither of them could actually see, could they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert widened his stance, letting Eskel press him easier against the wall. The moment their hips came flush, erections grinding against one another, it felt like a wave of </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> passed over him, pulling Lambert under. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a relief that Lambert wasn’t at all ready to feel. It was still several months early for a reunion like this. Usually, the frantic privilege of kissing Eskel, knowing he was alive after months and months on the Path, was exclusive to winters. Lambert could count on one hand the number of times he’d come across another Witcher on the road, and didn’t need any hands for how many times he’d come across a fellow Wolf. He was vaguely aware of his hands fisting into the back of Eskel’s leather jerkin, pressing as close against skin as he could dare. Someone could still throw the door open and reveal their almost-tryst. He started to withdraw at the sudden realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, keep em there, wanna feel your hands all over me,” Eskel breathed, kissing his way down the column of Lambert’s neck, past where he even grew facial hair, where his skin was bare and exposed. Lambert wished he was naked, could feel all of Eskel against him. “I’ve fucking dreamed of this, sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just sometimes?” Lambert asked shakily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every time I dream, I dream of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert’s breath caught in his throat, and he rolled his body to get Eskel’s mouth back on his. Only a Witcher could hear the absolutely wrecked, needy moan stifled at the back of his throat, only a Witcher could feel the slight tremble to his hands, the shiver up and down his spine like the godsdamned tide. He pulled Eskel closer, needing as much of that body heat against his as he could get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No self-control, you’re a menace,” Eskel chuckled, before pressing a few sweeter kisses to Lambert’s cheek, his arms sliding around his back in an embrace no man could separate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods, but he missed Eskel’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>scent.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They were usually ripe as all get-out when they arrived at Kaer Morhen, but right now? Fresh off some good rest, a relatively recent bath and well-fed? Eskel smelled as content and happy and sated as he was in the middle of winter in Kaer Morhen. Lambert pressed his face into Eskel’s neck, kissing his way down until the very tips of his scars broke into pale, untouched skin. Right on his pulse, Lambert licked and sucked and bit, where his scent was most powerful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was drunk on it; Eskel was a vintage Lambert could never drink enough of, and gods, he was bathing in it. He didn’t realize he was rutting his hips against Eskel’s until two solid, strong hands came to still them. He let out a frustrated growl. “It’s your fault I’m like this. Had to be in here being all sexy and smelling like home didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I won’t do anything else unless you’re going to be good for me.” Eskel always gave Lambert a rule, something he could tiptoe around and push the boundaries of. It was a give-and-take, a script to a play they loved more than words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise I’ll be good to you.” Lambert dove in to try and steal another bruise into that perfect, unmarred skin, but Eskel stopped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be good </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, Lambert.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, he caught that, didn’t he? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was about to open his fat mouth in another smartass comment, but the sound of another patrol coming by, much larger than before, caught his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Lambert hissed, needing to let out some frustration. Couldn’t he kiss his Eskel in peace? Shit, they really needed to get out of here.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is why we can’t have nice things, Darlan. You let not one, but </span>
  </em>
  <span>two</span>
  <em>
    <span> Witchers go, and now…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The baron’s bitchy complaints disappeared around another corner, and the patrol paused…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right in front of the closet Eskel and Lambert were hiding in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise,” Lambert kissed into his neck. “I’ll be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of Eskel’s hands pushed upwards slowly, coming to tangle into Lambert’s hair, made messy from their frantic affection. They tightened and tugged, so gentle only a Witcher would be able to feel the full spectrum of sensation Eskel was giving him. Eskel’s scars jumped over his face as he leaned in, lips pressed against his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always good to me.” The declaration, the promise, the affection, it all cut like a billion edges on a knife straight to Lambert’s heart. He whimpered and held Eskel’s body closer. Gods, he never got this. Not even in his dreams did he imagine holding him in the summertime, and even now, they’re in a cold fucking closet, in the dark, in a manor house full of humans that wanted them dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stood like that in silence for several long minutes. Their muscles and joints protested their statuesque stances, but Lambert would sooner forsake his heartbeat than let Eskel go. They could both breathe easier again when the guards left their post, spurred into motion by the baron himself, shouting at the men to stop looking lazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Eskel who started it, right as the patrol left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bastard had made so subtle of a motion, Lambert almost didn’t register it. His cock certainly did, however, that gentle nudge forward lighting up a hundred fuses in Lambert’s body. Lambert coyly pushed back, dancing tentatively with a partner he knew better than anyone else. His hands went up to the back of Eskel’s neck, pulling at the hairs just at the nape of his neck. He’d need a haircut soon. He pulled, hard, to get Eskel to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the dim, low, light, they’d gotten used to it at some point, and the flicker of gold off of the barest of light from under the door reflected off of Eskel’s eyes, and Lambert could see his heaven for just that moment. He dove in, pulling Eskel closer until he wasn’t sure where he ended and where Eskel began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you’ve been fighting drowners again, haven’t you, your muscles feel like you’ve been swinging wide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you, you probably did some stupid shit from that godsdamned gryphon nest and are hiding an injury from me.” Eskel nipped at his lower lip once before sucking it into his mouth. Their foreheads touched, an intimacy saved for those quiet nights before a fire, keeping quiet in a keep of Witchers. Lambert was breathless, flying and falling all at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gonna play healer with me again, like we’re kids?” Lambert teased, his raised eyebrows pressed against Eskel’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nasty boy, would that I could put you in your place. You only like it when you feel a little pain, don’t you? Look at you, wanting and trembling,” Eskel breathed against him, reading him like a book. “I can smell how much you want it, you probably don’t have anything on under here, hm?” His hand came down to cup his burgeoning erection, unflagged by the guards’ sporadic patrol. “You’d probably let me fuck you right here, push you against the wall and take you like you’re mine, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Eskel, I—” Lambert felt his stomach do backflips, feeling entirely too sober and drunk beyond reason at the same time. He was silenced by a thorough kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Eskel whispered. Lambert whimpered, high and needy, in his throat, just for Eskel. “Beg me so pretty. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I’ll always take care of you. Turn ‘round now, slow-like.” Lambert had no choice but to obey, he’d promised he’d be good for Eskel, after all. “Good, so good for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His laces were plucked loose by clever fingers, and shoved down just under his ass, freeing his cock to the frigid air. Eskel’s hand, warm and strong and secure, wrapped around his prick and gave a testing squeeze, making him choke on his next breath. He was boneless, floating in Eskel’s hold like he always got him to be at home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered now if it was Kaer Morhen that was home, or Eskel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought left in a moment at the insistent tug at his cock. They were so close, the scent of them and their hot breaths filling up the small closet. Lambert never wanted to leave, wrapped up in Eskel and Eskel alone. He’d never been seen, been </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span> as well as Eskel did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the most cruelly hilarious part of it was this: Eskel didn’t even need to see Lambert to know he was favoring one side, protecting the other. He’d mentioned hiding an injury and Lambert had ignored it, as he always had whenever someone had expressed concern for his health. Gods, but Lambert couldn’t deny him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s how he ended up with one hand on his cock and the other massaging out a knot in his right shoulder, relaxed and in pain</span>
  <em>
    <span> just</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way he wanted it. He gasped, a harsher sound than he was used to making in the muted depths of the closet. After a particularly hard squeeze to his shoulder, he got a kiss on his shoulder and a thumb swiped over his leaking head. Lambert wasn’t going to last long, not with the sensory overload being unleashed upon him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad there’s no room in here, or I’d be on my knees with you in my mouth, tasting you and taking you down my throat.” The hand on his shoulder snapped to his mouth a moment before he could bite off the moan threatening to spill past his lips. “Shh, darling, shh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert rolled his hips, mindless except for that animal instinct seeking pleasure. “Want you. Miss you. Need you.” Lambert isn’t even half-certain of half the shit coming out of his mouth, but it seems to get caught just before he says something meant for winter, meant to be said in the silence of stone and snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They needed to be quiet, but the fun was in almost being caught, the certainty that someone, someone would hear. The stakes were just too high there. Eskel’s hand left his length and tucked him back into his trousers, much to his dismay and discomfort. The hand on his mouth squeezed, his cheeks burning with pleasure and need. The second it pulled away, he whispered desperate pleas, needy little whines just for Eskel, only for Eskel. He was turned, like a dancer on a stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, I know. We gotta get outta here, I gotta see you. Gotta taste you, feel you.” Eskel kissed apologies, heartfelt and genuine, into his skin, even just around the limits of his armor and clothes. Lambert matched his breathing to that of Eskel’s. They were Witchers. They could control their bodies better than the whims of their cocks and hearts. Eskel settled close, pressing up as much as he could against Lambert’s body, whispering promises and praise in equal measure, entrancing Lambert’s ears until he felt floaty without any of the desperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their internal clocks reminded them of when night fell, the guards getting restless, just before rotation. “Should be a hallway straight to outside.” Eskel murmured against his hair, stroking it softly, tenderly. They soaked up affection and care in the dark, here. They couldn’t afford it anywhere else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They slipped out quietly into the darkened manor, their area not even lit by torches and candles. Eskel and Lambert flowed like shadows through the manor, eventually finding their exit. It was a just a few well-timed jumps and grabs, and they were out of the damned place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert couldn’t help the deep ache in his heart, knowing the moment was doomed to be just that; a moment. It was already in the past and behind them. He wanted to be back in there again, where it smelled like </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span> and was warm like </span>
  <em>
    <span>them.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eskel could smell the sadness radiating off of him and slowed in his jog through the forest, coming side by side. His tilted eyebrow questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suppose we’ll go our separate ways once we hit a road?” Lambert tried his best to hide a frown but failed. He could never hide from Eskel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Eskel slowed to a stop. He gave a little breathless laugh. “Remember the part where you promised me and Scorpion good lodging somewhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I thought—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna go get a room, pretty far from here, and I’m gonna fuck your brains out, and I’ll leave when you kick me out. Tell me how you want it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert stood, poleaxed, at the statement. The moon shone brightly above them, casting them in ethereal light. He knew right then that he would hold this memory for a very, very long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it like you always do. I mean. How you like it. Do me like you. What? Fuck. I don’t. Eskel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel chuckled and closed the short distance between them. He hushed Lambert’s stuttered words with a gentle kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I always do? Let’s go find out what that means.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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